So It Goes
by bravevulnerability
Summary: 'Watching Kate Beckett dancing in a club is nothing short of a religious experience. Witnessing it once isn't enough.' A late season 3 four shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Inspired by 3x14, 'Lucky Stiff', but set after 3x17, 'Countdown'. For the sake of this scenario, Josh never returned for Beckett in the beginning of that episode.**

* * *

 _"Come here, dressed in black now  
So it goes  
Scratches down your back now  
So it goes  
You did a number on me  
But, honestly, baby, who's counting?"_

 _-'So It Goes' by Taylor Swift_

* * *

Watching Kate Beckett dancing in a club is nothing short of a religious experience. Witnessing it once isn't enough.

He's playing with fire, already singed with the burn of being too close, but he can't help it.

Luckily, he has an unknowing accomplice willing to strike the match for him.

"Come on, girl," Lanie pleads with her. He isn't trying to listen in from outside the break room, he's just… waiting for Beckett and Lanie to finish the conversation they're having so he can brew a fresh pot of coffee for her. "I just got dumped, you did too-"

His heart skyrockets with his eyebrows.

"I did not get _dumped,_ " Kate mutters, sounding far more annoyed than heartbroken. "I called him, after the freezer, and told him it was over. I can't… be with someone who I never even see."

"I know, honey," Lanie sighs, her voice a blanket of comfort. "He never deserved you and you definitely deserve better than him."

Beckett doesn't answer and Castle toys with the idea of how to slip inside, weave himself into the conversation without evoking suspicion. He could be what she deserves; he so badly wants to be deserving of her.

"Okay," she suddenly says, the resolve solid in her voice. "Let's go out tonight. You pick the place."

And there's his opportunity.

"What's this about going out?" Castle inquires, strolling into the break room with her empty coffee cup in his hand.

Beckett crosses her arms and glares at him. "How long were you standing out there?"

"Standing out there?" he repeats quizzically, but he can pull this off. He just has to channel the acting skills he's uses at book signings and press events, in meetings and past marriages. "I was going over that stack of missing person files with the boys, told them I'd brew some fresh coffee. I just grabbed your cup on the way in here."

Kate assesses him like a human lie detector, but he must pass the test.

"Lanie and I are going out. Girls night," she informs him, the 'no boys allowed' unspoken but prevalent in the curve of her eyebrow.

"Aww, why? I could make it twice as fun," he whines, drifting towards her and Lanie to access the coffee machine. "Plus, remember who I am? I could get you both into the best clubs in town."

"No thanks, Castle," Kate mutters, but Lanie perks up.

"Which clubs?"

Beckett cuts her glare to her best friend.

"How about the place that just opened downtown? It's been getting all positive reviews and I happen to know the owner. She's a fan." He wiggles his brow and Kate twists her lips in disdain.

"We don't need your connections to-"

"Hey, speak for yourself," Lanie pipes up. "Do you know how impossible it is to get in that place? I'm looking for a good time in a hot place with the best liquor."

"Check, check, and check," Castle assures her with a grin.

"We're in."

"Lanie," Kate growls, but the M.E is already strutting past the two of them, giving Castle a high five on the way out.

"As soon as you get off work, Kate Beckett. My place," she calls over her shoulder, shooting her a narrowing look. "And don't you dare try to back out."

Beckett huffs and rounds on him with that killer glare. "You're an ass."

"For getting you and your best friend into the hottest club in the city right now?" he questions innocently, but she fails to waver. "Okay, fine, I won't come. Better?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't be a child. I don't care if you're there or not."

"You're the one who said _girls night_ ," he reminds her, but Kate waves him off.

"It'll still be girls night. Just because you're there doesn't mean I'll acknowledge you."

"Oh, ouch," he chuckles, tapping in the settings on the espresso machine. "We'll see how long you can resist the temptation of partying with me, Beckett."

Amusement flickers through her gaze. "What temptation?"

"Live in denial then," he shrugs, sliding her cup into place beneath the machine to catch the trickle of coffee. He reaches for the cinnamon, prepared to add just a pinch-

"You're adding cinnamon," she murmurs. He looks up to see the suspicion creasing her brow. "You only do that when you think I… you were listening the entire time, weren't you?"

Her eyes harden once more, steel ambers that glitter with anger.

"Because I put cinnamon? Do you not want any?" he asks, genuinely confused now.

"You only make me coffee like that when you think I need comfort or something," she mutters, shaking her head. "Which I don't. I'm fine, Castle. Like you said, one foot out the door, doesn't make for a great relationship."

She turns to walk away and he purses his lips.

"Fine, I heard," he calls back to her, hearing the click of her heels on the hardwood pause. "And Lanie's right. You deserve better."

She doesn't respond and he assumes she must have slipped out, but then the soft sound of her sigh is whispering through the quiet of the room.

"Thanks, Castle."

* * *

"You dressing up for Castle?"

Kate lets out a breath and slides Lanie yet another glare in the mirror. They're almost ready to go, just finishing up the final touches on makeup in Lanie's bathroom.

"No, besides, he saw this dress a couple of weeks ago," she mumbles, returning her focus to the stroke of black liner to her eyelid.

"Oh did he?" Lanie asks, too much intrigue in her voice.

"For a _case_ , Lanie," she mutters, capping the eye liner and reaching for her mascara.

"Mhmm," Lanie hums, adjusting the low neckline of her dress. "I'm surprised he survived that."

"You know it isn't like that with us," Kate sighs, brushing her lashes in black. But she can't deny that she's a little more eager than she should be for him to see her in the short black dress again, for their attentions to be undivided by drug dealers and undercover work.

"It should be," Lanie huffs, dragging the v of her dress a little lower, accentuating her cleavage. "Girl, you're finally single again, so is writer boy. The time has come."

Kate shakes her head and drops the mascara back into her makeup bag. "No, it hasn't."

"We'll see."

"Yeah? Well, let's see how long it takes you and Esposito to get back together on that dance floor tonight," Kate challenges, her fingers curling around a tube of lipstick.

Lanie swats her hip with her clutch. "Hush and hurry up. The boys are probably already there."

Kate smirks and stains her lips in the soft shade of pink. Lanie still doesn't know about the dumb idea from weeks ago, how she already knows what it's like to have Castle's mouth on hers, to feel the press of his body into hers, his hands roaming her frame.

It isn't for him, she tells herself. But her lips are tingling with memory as she swipes the last of the lipstick across her mouth.

* * *

The music is blaring, the lights low and sweeping across the club in multicolored streaks. He's still waiting on her.

"Lanie just texted me," Esposito informs him. They're sitting at the bar, sipping on overpriced drinks and watching the door. "Bouncer just let them in."

Castle straightens on his barstool, his heart skipping beats in its search for her, accelerating once he finally spots her walking into the sea of dancing bodies and waves of light.

She's wearing that dress again.

"Damn, Lanie looks good," Esposito sighs, downing the last of his drink and dropping from the stool. "I've got work to do. Catch you later, bro."

"Yeah," Castle murmurs, but his gaze fails to stray from Kate Beckett weaving through the crowd. She looks incredible, loosening with every sway of her body to the beat. "Good luck."

But Esposito is already gone, trotting into view and sidling up next to Lanie. Kate smirks, nudging Lanie with her hip before her eyes lift to scan the crowd, looking for _him._ They spark gold when they find him and then she's working her way through the grind of bodies to reach the bar where he sits.

He signals the bartender as she strides up to Esposito's vacant seat.

"Thought you weren't going to acknowledge me," he quips over the thump of the music.

"That was before my girls night got turned upside down by Esposito," she chuckles, long legs crossing as she sits down next to him. "He and Lanie are in a break up, make up phase right now."

"Trust me, I heard all about it," he commiserates, watching her lips quirk a little wider. "So does this mean you're stuck with me for girls night?"

She sighs, accepts the drink he ordered from her with a softer smile. "I guess so."

But she doesn't look quite as put out by the idea as she did earlier.

"In that case, drink up, Beckett. I'm ready to dance. For real this time."

"For real, huh?" She grins around the rim of her martini glass, sipping slowly. The heel of her stiletto drifts imperceptibly closer to his calf. "You could barely handle the fake."

"I'm not sure you know what I can handle."

He swears her neck flushes with color, but it could just be the lights. He doesn't miss the bite of her lip, though.

"Okay, Castle." She sets her glass down half empty on the bar. "Let's dance."

* * *

It started out as dancing, it really did.

She isn't drunk, has no excuse, except that the breadth of his chest beneath the black stretch of fabric, the few buttons left undone and leaving skin unattended, calling to her. The fixation of his dark blue eyes roaming every inch of her body like she's something worthy of that dangerous mixture of lust and awe, too much for her.

They dance, his hands hesitant on her hips and hers safe on his shoulders. For a little while. But when her hips begin to sway, his fingers grow a little more confident, curling around the bones and following the sinuous rhythm. He doesn't pull, doesn't try to draw her closer, but she lets herself be tugged in by the magnetism she's tired of resisting.

"Beckett," he murmurs, holding himself away from her when she drifts in close. Her breasts are brushing his chest, hips a breath away from meeting his. His throat ripples with a swallow. "Maybe we should take a break."

"Can't handle it after all?" she teases, stoking the flames she feels crackling in the pit of her stomach, licking at her insides.

His hands splay at her waist, one gliding around to the bottom of her spine, the heat of his palm covering the small of her back and spreading. All he would have to do is press down, drag her lower body into his.

"I can handle you, better than anyone else."

Her brow arches. "Large assumption, Castle. One that has no merit."

His hand scales from her back, fingertips skimming the curve of her ass, traipsing over the tight satin of her dress and flirting with the edge of her outer thigh.

"I could change that."

Her heart trips. This is going in a direction she could have predicted, has imagined more times than she wants to admit, but… is this really something she wants? No, scratch that. She _wants_ it, wants him. Badly. But is it a good idea?

"But not if it's just to prove I'm better than him."

Her body stops moving and he returns his hands to the respectable place of her waist. She glances up, sees too much in his eyes. They widen subtly, as if he's just realized what he said, as if he never meant to say it aloud.

Castle takes a step back. She lets him.

"Maybe we should take that break after all."

* * *

Kate retreats to the bathroom, probably to clear the deer in headlights look from her face, and he retreats back to the bar. To sulk.

He pushed too hard, went way too far, and he knows better. But she just - she messes him up, staring up at him with those dark eyes from beneath even darker lashes, an inch away from grinding on him, looking like she wants to devour him.

She just broke up with her boyfriend less than a week ago. He knows better.

"Hey there." Castle glances up at the voice, soft and seductive and belonging to a pretty brunette in a red dress. She's at least a few years younger than him, studying him with blue eyes that don't hide their interest in him and a seductive curl of her red lips. Almost as pretty as Kate, the kind of woman he would have indulged before. "Drinking alone?"

"Ah, no. Just waiting for a friend," he answers with a quick smile. "She's in the bathroom."

"Oh, it's a _she_ ," the other woman muses, sliding into Kate's spot with a grin. He does his best not to shift away, doesn't want to be rude. But the last thing he wants right now is a consolation prize.

"Yeah, she's my - my best friend," he gets out, like an idiot. His best friend? What are they, ten?

"That's so sweet," the woman purrs, balancing an elbow on the bar and leaning in closer. "But I've been watching you for the last few minutes and, in my opinion, your _friend_ has left you alone way too long."

* * *

Kate pulls herself together in one of the luxurious empty stalls. Pacing back and forth for a few minutes to relieve some of the heated frustration coursing through her veins, between her legs, and dabbing at her neck with a damp paper towel.

She'll just stay a while longer, drive things back onto better terms with Castle, and then tell Lanie she's taking a cab home. Things got a little heated with him, but it's not a big deal if she doesn't make it one and she knows he'll loyally follow her lead back to normalcy.

Kate runs a hand through her hair and checks her face in the mirror, takes a deep breath, before she slips back out onto the dancing floor. She searches the mass of gyrating bodies for him, but doesn't have to look far. He's back at the bar.

But he's not alone.

Her legs lengthen their strides, get her to him a little quicker and more determined than necessary. Just in time to see his new female companion draping a hand too high on his thigh.

"Castle." He startles, but the woman's hand doesn't leave his thigh.

She glances up to Kate with disinterest, her red lips quirked. "Oh, you must be the _friend_."

But Castle is shifting, shifting _away_ from the woman and off the bar stool to stand beside Beckett. Loyal, still loyal, even when he isn't hers.

"Aww, don't leave," she sighs, moving to rise, to follow him. Kate's hand curls into a fist, her body instinctively gravitating towards his, a wedge between him and the woman. She flicks her gaze to Kate, a challenge alight in the ice blue of her gaze. "Do you really mind sharing if you two are just _buddies_?"

Kate purses her lips and snags Castle's hand. "Yes, I do."

Castle sputters, but she's already turning on her heel and guiding him away from the alluring woman at the bar, back into the embrace of dancing bodies.

"Yes?" She lifts her eyes to his, hesitant but gleaming, swirling with desires of all shades. "Not good with sharing, Beckett?"

She huffs, stops with all the pretenses, and curls her fingers at his shirt collar.

"What do you think?" she grumbles, tugging him in close, bumping hips and chests and stealing his breath.

His hands cup her elbows, thumbs pressing hard into her bones. "I don't know what to think. I don't know what you want."

"I don't want a rebound," she murmurs, curving one of her palms at his shoulder and rising into the cove of his body. His chest shudders, his pulse thumping like the music, as she whispers her lips to his ear. "I just - I want-" She bites her lip, can't find the words, how to say it without-

"Me?"

She turns her head, finds him far closer than she expected. Her gaze falls to his mouth without permission and he leans in just a fraction more, the tip of his nose brushing hers.

"No rebound," he echoes, hands releasing her elbows. His fingers trickle down her sides, coasting along her ribs, and trailing to her lower back. Her hips roll forward at their own volition, her body rocking into his like a wave. No control, she's losing it all. "No mistakes."

"No," she gets out, digging her nails into his shoulder. His thigh eases between her legs, high and solid and flirting with the strip of lace between her thighs.

"I don't want you to regret anything," he murmurs, his breath hot and staining her lips, but his eyes are serious, boring into hers. "Not with me."

His mouth is practically grazing hers as he speaks. She tilts her chin, feels the buzz of his bottom lip touching hers.

"I won't."

Kate finally feels his fingers bruise at her hips, drag her up tight and firm against him, every piece slotting into place. She gasps, fingers climbing to skim his nape, twine through his hair, cradling his skull as he slants his mouth over hers.

She moans, sinks into him, and succumbs to the beauty of burning.

It's even better the second time.

* * *

He didn't think it was possible, but it _is_ better the second time. She wants him this time, no ruse or false pretenses to explain away the ravenous work of her mouth on his, the moans she continues to release into his mouth.

Her hips twist, the heat of her bare thigh sliding over his leg and searing through the fabric of his pants. He groans, can't take it. Can't have her in his arms, hot and lithe and grinding against his body like this, in the middle of a dance floor.

"Kate," he gasps, unable to resist palming his hand to the ass that's been teasing him in this dress all night. Her lips part against his and she whimpers, a desperate little noise that shoots a flare of arousal straight to his groin. "Let me take you home."

Kate nods, but her hips are still moving to the music, her body a siren song of rhythm leading his to inevitable devastation. But her hands are slipping from his hair, tangling in the fabric of his shirt and tugging as she begins to walk backwards.

He stumbles with her, letting her lead until they're pushing through a doorway into cool air and street lit concrete. The deafening beat of the music fades behind them, muffled by the door she presses him up against.

He's painfully hard now, the hook of her knee at his hip not helping matters, but no way is he having sex with her for the first time in a back alley. But… the way she's kissing him, hard strokes of her tongue juxtaposed by delicate brushes of her lips, is too good to stop just yet.

Rick cradles her face in his hands, savoring the sharp slice of her jaw to the heels of his palms, her bone working against his fingers as she kisses him with intent. It really is better than their first kiss.

Kate Beckett is dedicated in everything she does, her focus admirable and her efforts never anything short of full forced. He's learning that she brings the same devotion to the investigation of her mouth over his, the exploration of her hands on his chest, flicking a button or two out of place and tracing fire to his exposed skin with her fingertips.

She kisses him ardently, thoroughly, and desperately all at once. She touches him, crushes her body against him, like she wants to climb inside of him. And he already knows he would let her without question.

"Loft's close," he gets out once they're forced to part for breath. Her eyes are a dazed shade of gold, pupils so dark and dilated he can barely catch the gorgeous color. "Let's go."

"Why?" she murmurs, flicking those eyes back to his lips and rolling her hips forward into the embrace of his. She fits so well between his legs, tangled around his limbs, it's almost uncanny.

"Because I don't want you in an alley. Not tonight, anyway." She arches an eyebrow, but her teeth are snagging on her bottom lip. "Kate, I want you in my bed. I want to be able to take in every inch of you and I want to take my time. Multiple times."

"I don't want slow," she groans, pressing into him. "I want this, now-"

Rick slides his hands down her back until they're skating over her ass, down to cup her in his hands and haul her in tight against him. She hisses, fingers coiling in his shirt again for purchase. Her lips part with a gasp as he allows himself one sharp thrust against her.

"I can change your mind."

She growls and darts in for a punishing kiss, all tongue and teeth and building need.

"My place is closer."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: It turns out, due to length, this fic will actually be a _four_ shot. And** **for this chapter and the following, the M rating will apply.**

* * *

Her apartment in Tribeca is only a short walk from the nightclub and she guides Castle down the sidewalks with hands twined and her heart pounding in her chest. When she let him coax her from the enticing shadows of the alley at the club's back entrance, part of her feared that the time it would take to reach her apartment, the shock of cold air to her skin and separation from his, would clear her senses, convince her not to do this.

But she was wrong.

The anticipation sizzles through her every cell, tingling in her fingertips and buzzing across her lips every time he stalls them at an empty crosswalk to kiss her hard and fast. It makes the journey to her building, through the lobby, and up the stairs, damn near unbearable.

So much so that by the time they stumble through her front door, she doesn't think they're going to make it to her bed.

He slams the door shut with her body, his mouth open and trailing fire down the side of her neck, worrying the sensitive spot he's discovered just below her ear.

"Fuck, Castle," she gasps, bracing her hands on his shoulders. Her leg is hitched high at his outer thigh, dragging him between hers.

His hand is flirting along her side, knuckles teasing through the silk panelings of the stupid dress that she wants _off._ She rocks her hips, tries to relieve some of the building pressure between them with a grind of friction. They both moan, the sound reverberating from his mouth through her flesh, disintegrating like a drug into her bloodstream.

Her spine arcs and his hand ventures upwards at last, cupping her breast. Her head drops back against the door, her hand covering his, squeezing in approval as he presses his thumb to her nipple straining beneath too many layers of fabric. But she needs more, too much of her body boiling over with it.

Kate tightens her leg around his, her muscles clenching hard to keep him in place as she rolls her hips, grinds down onto the perfect plain of his thigh between her legs.

"Kate," he breathes, his hand abandoning her breast to skim over the exposed skin of her chest, the ridges of her clavicles rising and falling with the rapid pace of her lungs.

He stains his lips to the swell of a breast, the valley between them, and tends to one collarbone with his teeth while he grazes the length of the other with his thumb.

The desperate urge to release the keening noise on the tip of her tongue nearly prevails before she undulates her hips, has him stuttering in the ministrations of his mouth. She takes the moment of pause to push the suit jacket from his shoulders, ripping away a few buttons from his shirt along the way.

Castle mumbles something into the hollow of her throat about impatience before he's scaling her neck with his mouth again, nipping at her jaw.

Kate yanks at the tail of his shirt, pulling it from the waist of his pants. She slips her hands beneath the fabric, hums into the kiss he fuses to her mouth. His skin is so hot under her hands, muscles jumping beneath her palms, the blades of his shoulders shifting under the exploration of her fingers.

Her nails pierce his bare skin as he skates his fingers up her thighs, edging beneath the rucked up material of her dress. Her eyes flutter closed, her mind unable to focus on anything but the burn of his hand on her thigh, venturing higher beneath the fabric, taking her dress with it.

Castle's palm encompasses her ass, fingers kneading, encouraging the sharp and shallow thrusts of her hips into his.

"Just let me have you here," she gasps, her lungs contracting with the need for a deep breath. But she can't manage it, can hardly manage to keep her grasp on reality, on him. "Fuck me here."

His hips jerk, an explosive first collision into hers, and her nails scratch down his back. Castle moans, buries his face in her neck again. His hand clutches at her ass while he works over the side of her throat with his mouth, sucking and scraping so intently, she has no doubt the evidence will stain her skin by morning.

"Yes, like that," Kate gets out past the whine clogging her throat, wrapping her arms around is neck and securing her grip. Her other leg winds around his waist. She's already practically climbed his body, but he helps hoist her up, aiding her legs in clamping around his hips.

He bites down on her shoulder, hard enough to mark her, and her hips automatically thrust forward. Rick pushes the dress the rest of the way up to her hips, exposing her lower body to the cool air of her apartment, removing the barrier of fabric between the lace of her underwear and the straining heat beneath his slacks.

He maneuvers a hand between them and she doesn't have the time to suck in a necessary breath before he's cupping her in his palm. She chokes on his name, raises one of her hands to his hair to weave her fingers through the strands, something to anchor herself with.

"You're soaked," he groans, his fingers tracing over the drenched lace of her thong barely left in place.

"And impatient," she husks, rocking into the hand wedged between her and his thigh. " _Rick_ -"

He hooks his thumb around the strip of fabric, tugging it to the side and grazing his fingers through the dripping arousal between her legs. She nearly sobs at the contact, scoring her nails into his neck and digging her heels into his ass.

Castle growls, circles her clit, and slicks through her folds, glides over her entrance.

"Oh, oh, fuck, _please_ ," she gasps, clinging to him too tightly and begging pathetically. But he's running his thumb over her clit with just the right amount of force and thrusting his fingers inside of her, first one, then two at her moan, as if he already knows exactly how to undo her.

He takes his time, multitasking with his other hand yanking at one of her dress sleeves. His mouth paints over every piece of skin he's able to free, sucking on the rounded edge of her shoulder, dousing every inch of her in need.

Kate tightens her arms around his neck, her spine bowing forward. The walls of her body are clutching around him with every plunge of his fingers so deep inside her, her nails scraping at his scalp and her hips are rocking in a frenetic rhythm. She's grinding into his palm with every sink of her hips, soaking his hand in arousal, but she doesn't care.

She's never felt so high, so engulfed in flames, and she only wants to keep climbing, keep burning.

Kate catches his ear between her teeth, laves her tongue over the shell, and feels him curse into her cheek.

"God, I'm not even inside you yet and you feel so good," he rasps against her temple, the stubble on his jaw abrading the skin of her cheek.

The coil in her abdomen twists tighter, the fiery sear of release burning brighter and on the verge of combusting-

Castle curls his fingers, and she chokes out a sob into his shoulder. Her hips stutter, her rhythm falling apart, but he fails to cease in his. The work of his fingers, his mouth at the hinge of her jaw, unravels her, triggers the spill of her orgasm and has her crumbling in his arms.

Her blood floods with lava, crackles and sparks with an accompanying current of electricity through her veins, white-hot and shooting stars behind her closed eyelids. She's alight with it, weightless and trembling with aftershocks, and she doesn't want the sensations to stop. Not with him.

Kate fists her hands in his hair, at his nape, and buries her face in his throat. He withdraws his fingers gently and she forces the air into her lungs, attempts to loosen the vice of her legs around his waist.

But she doesn't let go.

She lifts her head, dusts her lips at his chin in search of his mouth. Castle doesn't deny her, kissing her slowly, with care and a hint of the need she can feel pulsing between his legs, against her stomach.

She unwinds her fingers from his hair, soothing over the spots where she probably yanked too hard. But Castle doesn't seem to mind, his forehead a breath away from hers, noses bumping and breaths shared.

"You're gorgeous," he mumbles and her cheeks flush unexpectedly.

Kate brushes her mouth over his, strokes her thumbs along his ears, and kisses him with earnest. He sighs against her lips, leans into her against the door, but she doesn't want them to slow. What they did, what he did to _her_ , was just... incredible, but part of her heart is still beating too fast for reasons other than arousal and it scares her.

She wipes the fear from her mind with the fit of her hips into his, the hard press of him between her legs.

"Bed, Castle."


	3. Chapter 3

He's about to ask her if she's sure, if she needs more time to recover. He's still mesmerized by the sight of her breaking apart around his hand, in his arms, transfixed by the sounds she released into his skin, by the sensation of her clutching him so tightly, inside and out. But her thighs are cradling him in heat and her tongue is dousing him in gasoline with every stroke past his lips.

Her legs are cinched tight around his waist, so he splays his hands at her back instead, tracing his fingers over her shuddering spine as he draws her away from the door.

Her heels slip from her feet somewhere along the way to her bedroom, tumbling behind them, reminding him of the dress still clinging to her body. One sleeve barely holds to her arm, nudged out of the way by his teeth, the bottom pushed up around her waist. His own shirt is hanging on by a few buttons her fingers failed to tear free, his belt undone, but still too much. Too much between them that he needs gone.

He walks into her bedroom with Kate still curled around him, her hips rocking languidly into his every few steps, pushing him closer and closer to the edge, robbing him of his usual balance, and driving them into the doorframe at one point.

Rick snags the zipper at her back, drags it down the length of her spine until the shiny black fabric is falling apart around her shoulders. She hums at the climb of his fingers up her exposed vertebrae, curving at her nape and stroking over the baby fine hairs at the base of her skull.

She's so soft and intoxicating, fierce and strong, everything in between. He wants to press the words into the skin, brand her with more than just the swatches of purples and reds bound to form from the devotion of his mouth. He wants to confess everything he wanted to say in the freezer just days ago, wants her to know it all.

The mewl she releases as he kisses her with too many secrets snaps him back to reality, to who they are.

Shit, he needs to stop before he ends up blurting something stupid, like he loves her.

They don't talk. They kiss, they nearly freeze to death, they end up here, half naked in her bedroom, but they don't talk.

His knees hit the foot of her bed and she steals her hands beneath his shirt, returns her hands to her favored spot of his shoulder blades as he lays her down. It keeps him close, chest practically sealed against hers, the layer of her body beneath his breathtaking. He's never been this close before.

Kate pushes the shirt from his shoulders, ignoring the two buttons left clasped. He quickly undoes them for her, parts from the kiss of her breasts to his chest to shrug the shirt off. He tosses it over the edge of the bed, returns to her mouth even as she unzips his pants, slips a hand inside.

"Kate," he grunts into her mouth, catching her wrist as she palms him through his boxers. But she doesn't withdraw, coasting her knuckles along the length of him.

Rick uses his grip on her wrist to force her hand away, pinning it to the pillow above her head. She captures her bottom lip with her teeth, either in frustration or amusement, he isn't sure. But he knows she isn't content to remain still for long.

Her gaze drifts down his chest, his abdomen, lingering on the evidence so poorly hidden beneath his boxers. Her other hand trails down his back, tracing over every dip of muscle and rise of bone, until her fingertips skim the waistband. Her thumb hooks in the elastic and he lets her begin to pull them down in the back, aids with his free hand dragging them past his hips.

The boxers slide past his thighs and he maneuvers them around a knee, a shove of Kate's heel pushing them down his leg until he can shake them from his ankle.

Her hand flexes beneath his.

"My dress," she husks, her throat tripping with a swallow, her body shifting beneath him in a mess of silk and satin.

Castle lets go of her hand, allows her to ease her arms through the sleeve. She sits up just a little to draw each hand through, to reach around for the clasp of a black lace bra that he would bet matches the thong.

He helps tug the dress the rest of the way down her body, past the taut muscles of her abdomen, the points of her hips. He glances away from watching her kick the last of the fabric from her leg to witness the cups of lingerie coming undone around her breasts.

He's a writer, skilled with adjectives, but he's utterly speechless at the sight of Kate Beckett in nothing but a lace thong still damp with evidence of what they did against her front door.

"Castle," she calls and he jerks his eyes up. She quirks an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching too, because, yeah, he was definitely staring, but how can he not?

"Sorry, you're just - god, Kate, you're... it's almost too much. Too beautiful," he murmurs, his gaze flickering back to her chest, to the flush of pink blooming across her flesh.

Kate uses the support of her elbow, the strength of her trembling abdominal muscles, to reach for him, fingers catching in his hair to draw his body the rest of the way down to her. He collapses from his hovering stance above her, elbows digging into the firm mattress on either side of her head, the bared length of his body flirting tentatively with hers.

He doesn't resist, couldn't even if he wanted to, but he does snag the band of her underwear before he becomes too wrapped up in the sensation of her skin against his, before he forgets all about the strip of material and has to push it aside again. Her hips buck as his knuckles graze her clit, scratching against the lace, and Kate tattoos the back of his neck with what's becoming the familiar brand of her nails. The scratches down his back are still fresh and stinging.

"Take them off," she commands, but there's a plea in her voice that he never would have imagined in even his wildest fantasies.

He never could have fathomed her wanting him this much.

Her hips lift and Castle slides the last of the lace down her legs, trailing it along her skin until she squirms beneath him.

"Castle, _c'mon_ ," she groans, clamping her knees at his ribcage. "I want you, wanted you in the alley, up against the door-"

"I've been wanting you since you let me kiss you a month ago," he growls, finally yanking the thong past the high arch of her foot and letting it flutter over the edge of the bed. "I've wanted you for the last two years."

Too much, he already knows. This is exactly why he shouldn't be allowed to talk during sex, especially sex with _her_. He'll be lucky if she doesn't kick him out in the next few seconds-

"Rick." He risks a glance to her face. She's staring up at him with only a hint of surprise in her gaze, flickering like a beacon amidst the dark sea of her arousal.

Kate cups his face in her hands, craning her neck to reach his mouth. The kiss she drapes to his lips is tender, softer than he thought her capable of. It coaxes his body to give in, melt into her completely, and feel her skin naked and warm against his for the first time.

She shudders beneath him, like a live wire threatening to spark and explode, the electricity rippling across her skin and onto his. Her chest expands with a breath she inhales through her nose, the taut peaks of her nipples grazing his sternum, the contact racing like a lightning bolt straight to his veins.

But her thumbs sweep so reverently across his cheeks, caress the bones, the thin skin just beneath his eyes. He opens them to her, pulls back just enough to attempt a breath of his own. Her lips are swollen, pink, and spilling into a small smile for him. As if an intimate kiss is more terrifying uncertain than anything else, than his hand between her legs or her body naked and tangled with his.

But maybe it is, because he thinks the way she's kissing him now is something foreign and new to them both, something he's never had before.

"Me too," she murmurs, thumb skimming the corner of his eye. Her gaze falls to his chin, so uncharacteristically shy, pretty adorable, and... wait, did she just say that she's wanted him _too_? All this time? "But Castle?"

He blinks, his breath catching as she snakes a hand between them, her knuckles brushing across the sensitive skin below his hip before she takes him in her hand.

"I don't want to waste any more time."

She swipes her thumb over his tip and lifts her hips, tortures them both with the slide of his length through her folds.

"Me neither," he gasps, dropping his forehead to hers and channeling all of his energy into _not_ coming solely from the curl of her fingers and the scorching heat of her arousal coating him. He's not going to make it for much longer, he can't, not if she doesn't-

But then she's shifting beneath him, guiding him inside and enveloping him in heat.

Her legs fold high at his waist, taking him in as deep as possible until he's buried so far inside her, there's nothing left between them. And if it weren't for the velvet heat of her walls around him, pulsing and gripping him so tightly, he thinks he would be content to stay just like this forever.

* * *

He presses so deep, fills her so completely, she could cry.

"God, you feel so good," she lets out. Boundaries and lines be damned, she doesn't care anymore. She just wants him to _move_. "Rick-"

She doesn't have to ask. Castle is already withdrawing just far enough to glide back in, smooth and effortless, again and again, building an amazing rhythm without even trying. Not that it surprises her. Two years of foreplay, of banter and theorizing that rarely failed to leave her breathless, of nights spent alone in her apartment with his name in her mouth and her hand between her legs in poor substitute for him - this is long overdue. She hated to admit it, but she wanted him, always wanted him, _wants_ him now, and she doesn't care if he knows anymore.

He wants her too and that's all that matters right now.

Castle bends his head, peppers his mouth to her sternum, following the framework of bones to the slopes of her breasts. Her voice breaks on a keen as his tongue laves over a nipple before his mouth closes around the tip of her breast. He worships her chest, continues to thrust into her without falter, both of them climbing higher, every point of contact connecting in a constellation of euphoric electricity. But she doesn't want it to consume her again without him and he's about to drive her over the edge.

Kate tugs on his hair, drags his mouth back to hers. But he takes his time, tracing his lips between her breasts, over the hollow of her throat, trailing his tongue up the column of her neck. By the time he finally kisses her, she's breathless and panting.

One of Castle's arms is banding around her shoulders, while the other stretches to hook his fingers behind her knee. He swipes his thumb along the sweat pooling there, trails the length of her flank. His touch is gentle, a slow sweep of fingertips dancing across her skin, distracting enough to make her hips break from their steady cadence to crash into his.

Her hands scramble for purchase at his back and he growls, catches the stretch of skin just below her jaw with his teeth.

"You're going to make me bleed," he mumbles, nipping at the racing beat of her pulse. But he doesn't sound upset by the fact that she just might. He soothes the sting across her flesh with his tongue, has her writhing beneath him. But she's not coming again yet, not without him.

Kate clenches around him, feels his chest hitch against hers.

"Or you might just kill me all together," he groans, rolling his hips, stroking shallow and hard.

"I could think of worse ways to go," she gasps, turning her head to seek his mouth. The matching stroke of his tongue past her lips has her moaning, rocking her body into his with earnest, sucking on his tongue and drawing him so deep into a kiss that their rhythm begins to grow sloppy.

She twists her hips beneath him, a quick and dirty move that has him sliding impossibly further inside her, and Castle grunts her name, drives into her harder.

"Make me come again," she murmurs, marking his skin with the crescent shaped imprint of her nails as the waves of arousal begin to ripple out from between them. Rhythmic pulsing that sears with every beat.

Castle snatches one of her hands from his back, pins it above her head again and tangles their fingers. She grips his hand like a lifeline, lets the rest of her body lose control, meet each of his thrusts with the grind of her hips. She twines her legs even tighter around him, leaves no space between them.

He has to be close, throbbing and aching inside her, a breath away from tipping over the precipice of release like she is-

"Come _with_ me." The tension roping beneath the splay of her hand at his back ripples down his spine and Kate digs her heels into his ass. Her heart is beating too fast, galloping in her chest, barely able to keep up with the build of her climax climbing so quick-

He clutches her shoulder, the thrust of his rhythm collapsing into an agonizing drag of his hips over hers, scraping her raw. A muffled cry slips past her lips, a mewl pressed into his cheek. Their palms are slick and sliding with sweat, but she holds onto the lace of his fingers as she shatters.

* * *

He's never seen her so undone, so overcome with pleasure, and it's what finally has him succumbing to it as well, spilling inside her.

She's moaning his name as the stars explode behind his eyes, fireworks popping through his veins. The pierce of her nails to his flesh as she breaks apart around him, the desperate squeeze of her hand, the tremble of her body beneath his are the only sensations that center him. She milks her orgasm with the circling of her hips into his, the clench of her inner muscles around him, sweeping over him with another wave of ecstasy.

He bites her neck and she furrows her fingers through his hair, cups the back of his neck in her palm. The vestiges of pleasure lick through his senses like lapping waves to a shoreline and Castle sucks in a breath against her shoulder, presses his lips to the curve of bone and feels her quiver.

He waits until he can plant his elbow into the mattress without his arm shaking before he lifts his head, lets his gaze sweep over the woman lying warm and sated beneath him. Castle gingerly untangles his hand from hers, but she follows the rise of his fingers with the curl of hers, turns her head to stain her lips across the inside of his wrist.

And even after making lo- _having sex_ with her, his heart stutters hard.

"Good at that," she hums, her eyes closed and a blissed-out smile strung across her lips. She drops his hand, draws hers to rest against her chest. Her opposite set of fingers are still stroking mindlessly through his hair, thumb grazing the skin behind his ear, soothing and maddening all at once.

Castle swallows, not exactly sure what's allowed. She's boneless and drifting, doesn't seem to have any intention of making him leave - he's still inside her, legs and arms wrapped around her. But does that mean he can stay?

He sighs and lowers his head to rest gently against her temple, nuzzling his nose to her jaw. Her nails scratch softly at his nape. He takes that as a good sign.

One of his arms is still banded around her shoulders and he uses the loose grip to roll them onto their sides. She exhales as he slips from inside her, but seems to settle at the replacement of his knee easing between hers.

"Mm, just give me a minute," she murmurs, shifting her hips, hissing at the threatening spark of friction. Still too soon for that.

He huffs, brushes the strands of hair back from her forehead. "I need more than a minute. Sex with you is..." Her eyes flutter open, intrigued and inquisitive. "Overwhelming."

Kate smirks, unfurling one of her arms from its folded position against her chest to graze her fingers along the side of his neck.

"I can say it's pretty mutual," she murmurs, curling her fingers around his ear, toying with the lobe. "But in a good way."

"And you like it rough," he grumbles, even though he's kinda proud to bear the marks of her hands on his skin.

"Can't handle it after all?" she muses, her hand traveling to traipse over the half moon indentions just below his shoulder, biting her bottom lip. But he doesn't want her to think he's complaining. Oh, he would never complain about this.

"I can handle whatever you give me," he promises, a little too seriously, but her eyes don't flash with the trepidation he would have predicted. "Use me however you want, Kate Beckett."

She rolls her eyes, but cranes her neck, dusts her lips over his in a whisper of a kiss.

"Do you need to get home?" she murmurs and he shakes his head, his attention drawn to the intoxicating pull of her mouth, wanting it back on his.

"No, I'm - I'm free for the entire night."

"Yeah?" Her fingertips trail, down his side and over the lattice of his ribcage. "How many more minutes, Castle?"

He swallows, but she's already shifting her legs between his, flipping him onto his back in a seamless move that has her draped on top of him. He's still dazed by the move as she rises to straddle his hips, naked and glorious and more than he's ever dreamed.

Kate plants her hands to his chest and leans in, the deconstructed curls of her hair slipping over her shoulder to tickle along his chest. He cradles the back of her skull in his hand, runs his fingers through the strands. He may not survive her, but there's no other way he would rather go.

"We've got the entire night," he murmurs, lowering his hand to frame her hips. Kate grins, eyes sparkling green and gold, hair in a mess around the rose colored apples of her cheeks. He knows it's sappy, but he doesn't think she's ever looked more beautiful.

The pieces of his priorities so effortlessly fall into place. He wants her, wants the privilege of seeing her like this in the middle of the nights, the early mornings, he wants to keep bringing her coffee every morning for the sake of that brilliant smile she reserves solely for him. He wants to be her partner, wants a place in her home, her bed, wants too much. Wants it all.

"You okay?" she murmurs, quirking her brow at him.

He nods. "Never better, but ah, can I ask you something?"

Some of the sparkle dims from her eyes, some of the power seeping from her body and turning to vulnerability instead, but she nods back.

"Is this... just a one time thing? Because if it is, I get it, you just broke up with your boyfriend and tonight was... fun and if fun was all you wanted, I understand, but I just-"

"Castle," she calls quietly, catching the fingers drumming nervously atop her thighs.

He holds his breath.

"Josh and I weren't - I liked him, but we just weren't..." She purses her lips, stares down at the splay of her hands over his. "We were never right, never meant to last, and that's why I never put both feet in the door. There was no point."

A sigh of relief should have left his lips, but instead- "What about with me?"

His brain to mouth filter malfunctions. But Kate only sighs, her lips actually twitching with... is that a smile? Small and barely discernible, but still a smile.

"You're my partner." His heart begins to sink, but she isn't finished. "You're the one who nearly froze to death with me last week, you're the one who works my mother's case with me, who makes me feel better every time it inevitably crashes and burns into a dead end." She slips her fingers through his, twines them to rest atop her thighs, but fails to lift her eyes. "I don't know... what we are, Castle, but we're something, aren't we?"

"Definitely," he answers without a beat, watching the tiny seed of a smile bloom just a fraction, amused. "Well, I mean, we always have been. I've always wanted to be. And after this..." Her eyes flicker up to meet his. "I don't want to say too much too soon, Kate, I just know I care about you. I want you, in every way possible."

He can't stand to remain lying down anymore, not while they're having this conversation, so he eases up onto his elbows. Her body shifts into his lap, legs around his waist. She fits so natural against him, even like this, and he just wants to band his arms around her, bury himself inside her at this angle-

But no, talk first. For once, they're going to talk first. Because he can't give himself over to her so completely, body already in her possession and heart in her hands, if it isn't what she wants. He's already in too deep with her for something solely physical.

Kate swallows, cups his cheek in her hand and caresses her fingers to his jaw. It isn't often that he sees Kate Beckett this vulnerable, unsure of herself, but when she meets his eyes, it's with resolution burning in her gaze and the corner of her mouth still in bloom.

"I want that too."


	4. Chapter 4

She wakes to sun stained sheets and the trail of fingertips down her arm, a thumb circling at her shoulder.

Kate shifts, her spine popping as she stretches. Her body is loose, liquid and spread out across her bed, and she opens her eyes to the reason why.

Castle is propped up on an elbow, temple against the heel of his palm and bright blue eyes following the path of his fingers. They sparkle in the sunlight when they land on her face, realize she's awake and watching.

"What're you doing?" she mumbles, noticing his body visibly relax.

"Trying to determine how much concealer you're going to need and how long you'll have to wear turtlenecks," he muses, dragging his index finger down the length of a collarbone. She shivers and catches his wrist, dips her chin to try and see what he's talking about.

She can't manage to get a glimpse of her clavicle, but she can easily examine the rest of her upper body, uncovered by the sheet and painted in mismatched shades of marks from his mouth.

Kate groans and drops her head back to the pillow. "You gave me _hickeys_?"

He chuckles, sounding so delighted by the observation, but not smug. No, too affectionate for that.

"Just a few," he murmurs, slipping his hand free from hers to swipe his thumb high at her neck. "Only a couple of problematic ones."

She huffs and pulls the sheet up from her waist, drawing it up around her chest and trying to suppress a grin as he groans in disapproval.

"It's not like you didn't give me any," he whines, pawing at the sheet. She bats his hand away, lifts on her elbow to mirror him, scanning her eyes over his bare chest with intrigue, and - oh, he's right.

Kate grazes her fingers to his shoulder, brushes over the violet bruise decorating his skin, scales higher to touch the faded marks from her nails only a few inches higher.

"Do you have work today?" he murmurs, interrupting her examination, but she shakes her head.

"No, Saturday's my day off this week."

He gasps. "Mine too."

Kate meets his gaze with a roll of her eyes. "Is that so?"

"Mhmm, so I was thinking..." Castle shifts to lean in closer to her, but pauses, glancing over his shoulder. "Well, first I should get you a cup of coffee-"

"You got up to make coffee?" she murmurs, fingers climbing from the juncture between his shoulder and neck to curl around his neck, favor the fine hairs at the base of his skull again.

"We may be sleeping together now, but I know you still need your morning coffee, Beckett."

He smiles at her, but it's tentative, still a little uncertain, insecure. She tilts her head in question, hoping he'll say whatever it is he's thinking so she doesn't have to ask.

"Speaking of," he begins and Kate bites her lip, curves an eyebrow at him. "Everything we said last night before round two..." he lets his sentence trail, but she finds it easy to pick up where he left off.

"Still stands," she finishes, because it does. She never would have considered entering into a relationship with Richard Castle, especially after the past summer. That was the last time she ever planned to risk exposing her heart to him. Even last night, even as he pinned her to the door and dragged a brilliant orgasm from her with his fingers, she had no intention of taking this further than sex.

They're good at sex, she knew all along that they would be; it should have been enough. But all it took was one time, soft spoken confessions with skipping hearts afterwards, to have her telling him she wanted him too, wanted more, and showing him just how much three more times.

Part of her is still expecting the other shoe to drop, for the regret to flood in, but she's... she feels _happy._ It won't always be easy, there's no way things could ever be completely uncomplicated between them, but waking up next to him, sharing her bed with him, feels natural. It feels right.

The smile that spreads across his lips this time is one of relief, the tension coiled beneath her hand at his neck unwinding, leaking from his frame. He drifts in to brush that smile to her mouth, tugging a grin to her lips as he kisses her, but he shakes his head when she tries to draw him down, wanting more than a morning kiss.

"Wait, the coffee," he mumbles, cupping her cheek in his palm. "I set the timer for automatic turn off. Don't want it to get cold."

"I don't want coffee right now," she sighs, sliding her fingers through his hair and lacing her arm around his neck. "Want you."

He groans. "That's the sexiest thing you've ever said."

Her grin has their teeth clashing, but he's yanking the sheet tangling between them out of the way, planting a knee into the mattress between her legs-

Her phone begins to buzz. Kate turns away from his mouth at the source of the sound, her brow furrowing.

"How did my phone get in here?" she mumbles. "I dropped my purse in the living room when we-"

"I wasn't sure if you were working, didn't want you to miss a call," he huffs, whining as she unwinds her arm from his neck to stretch for the nightstand.

She brushes a kiss to his jaw while she snags the dancing device from her bag. He may regret it now, but the gesture was sweet, thoughtful.

"Oh, it's Lanie," she breathes, chewing on her bottom lip at the photo of her friend flashing across the screen. "I totally forgot about her last night."

Castle laughs into her cheek. "I don't think she noticed. Too busy _making up_ with Esposito."

"Do you think she knows?"

"Do we want her to know?"

Kate meets his eyes, but he looks nothing more than amused by the dilemma. And a little impatient.

"She can know, but I'll call her later," she decides, dropping the phone back to the nightstand. It's already gone to voicemail anyway.

"Good plan," Castle murmurs, but just as he leans in for her mouth again-

Kate growls and snatches for the phone that's resumed its ringing, swiping her thumb across the screen and bringing it to her ear. "Morning, Lanie. Mind if I call you back?"

"Well, good morning to you too," Lanie remarks sardonically as Castle diverts from her mouth, settles for her throat instead. Kate squirms, but - _oh_ , that feels nice. "What's got you in such a rush?"

 _Castle sucking on my neck._

"I'm just - busy," she manages to say evenly, digging her nails into Castle's nape. He nudges his nose to her jaw as his chest rumbles, the noise vibrating up his throat and past his lips.

There's a pause.

"Girl, are you the kind of busy I think you are?" Lanie gasps. "Did you take someone _home with you_ last night?" she demands with her voice rising.

Castle huffs, clearly able to hear Lanie's side of the conversation, and steals the phone from Kate's hand.

"Lanie, she'll call you back."

She's barely able to catch Lanie's exclamation of Castle's name before he's ending the call, meeting her gaze with an arch of his brow.

"Was that okay?"

"Little late to ask now," Kate points out, but there's laughter in her chest. "But for Lanie, yeah, that was okay. She'll definitely stop calling for a little while."

"Mission accomplished," he quips, brushing a persistent strand of hair from her cheek. She mimics him, reaching up to comb away the flop of his hair attempting to cling to his forehead.

"We should take this to the shower," she murmurs, scratching lightly at his scalp, grinning as his eyes go wide.

Castle is the one to move first, sweeping in to seal a quick kiss to her lips before slipping towards the edge of the bed. But her breath catches when he turns his back to her.

"Shit, I did that?" she whispers, causing him to pause.

He glances to her over his shoulder, poised on the edge of the mattress with confusion creasing his brow. "What?"

Kate pushes away the rest of the sheets to crawl towards him, pressing her fingertips to the bright red trails down his back.

"You weren't aware?" he chuckles, shifting enough to see her, assure her. "Kate, they don't hurt. You barely broke the skin."

She examines the scratches spanning from his neck to his lower back, nothing severe, just... surprising. She's had rough sex, left her mark on a man, but she's never been quite so overzealous.

"It's actually even hotter, though, if I'm the only one you've done this to," he murmurs, his voice dropping into his throat. She lifts her eyes, catches the lust unabashed and burning through his gaze. "I drive you that crazy, Beckett?"

She splays her palm over one of his shoulder blades, striped in scratches and decorated in the crescent shaped indentions she speared into his skin with every thrust. He drove her higher than anyone else ever has, crazier, and she remembers now, gripping him so tightly, scoring him with the unforgiving sink of her nails, just to hold on.

"Yeah," she muses, drifting in to touch her lips to his shoulder. His flesh ripples beneath her mouth, his chest stuttering, and she grins. "But I thought I had a pretty good handle on it after the last two years."

His eyebrows hitch to his hairline. "Exactly how long have I been driving you crazy?"

Kate moves from his back to slip from the bed, snagging his hand along the way and drawing him up after her. The sunlight is bleeding in through the slits of blinds across her room, dousing his naked body in gold. The natural light illuminates the pleasant surprise and heightening desire in his eyes, highlights the stains of color and trails of scratches across his skin. He's a beautiful man, sweet and sexy and _hers_. And it no longer scares her so much to admit it anymore, to so openly want him back.

She smiles through her own flush of arousal, relishes the eager bloom of heat, and begins walking them both backwards towards her bathroom.

"Long enough."


End file.
